Shayari 1

Kisiki hatheli par apni hatheli rakh dene bhar se haq nahi milta,
Kisike hothon par apne hoth rakh dene se pyaar ka sabak nahi milta,
Ban na hai toh kisi ki khamoshi ka gavaah ban,
Ban na hai toh kisi ke ghaav ka marham ban,
Milega kuch ya nahi, yeh nahi pata,
Par tu ek insaan zarur ban jayega

Known strangers

Who are these people?
some knowing me since nappy days,
some since they developed a misconception that knowing me may be an advantage.

We don't meet, we just bump into each other,
at parties, we are obliged to attend,
and on some occasions, where we would prefer not to see each other.

They don't greet me, they check me out,
for something to feel better about themselves,
but at times end up being envious about.

They don't give good wishes,
they give advise,
which makes them feel somewhat superior for the time their voice is touring my ears.

They always have an accomplishment to share,
most of the times it is not theirs,
but of someone they know,
and that someone never turns out my acquaintance.

At times i think why do the converse?
to seek appreciation,
to seek attention,
to seek sort of superiority,
to hide their anxieties amd insecurities...

Twin willing

am willing to quench everything that leaves you thirsty,
are your emotions willing to hold any water for me,

am willing to tame every wave that leaves you drowning,
is your sail willing to give up the shores for me,

am willing to let go the boundaries that bind you,
are your steps willing to trace their journey back to me,

In search of

Amid the fast-paced times,forgetful memories and too many choices, I still search for...

a handwritten poetry in the world of typed ones,

a personal call in the world of whatsapp messages,

a conversation about life in the world of peppered gossips,

a shout of familiar voice in the world of half-hearted smiles.

Couldn’t make out

Her eyes were closed, 
or bowed in grace

Her lips were sealed,
or playfully sleeping with each other,

Her curls were waving out to me,
or winds were building their home

Her expression was blooming with grace,
Or face was holding back the storm

Maybe she was everything pink and red could feed
or a different story you could never get to read

Poetry of touch

I will drive my poetry through your curves,
a bit above your skin,
a bit beneath your nerves

the way you bend,
the way you tilt,
covering you from end to end,
letting go all the guilt.

words will feel
as i feel you
i touch you
in places and ways
no one ever has,
through my words, spaces and commas
leaving my ink,
stealing your aromas